Merlin, Arthur, and a Connecticut Teenager
by WalkingLonely
Summary: Finding herself in the time of King Arthur, sixteen-year-old Morgan Le Fay Smith, a strong disbeliever in luck and magic, uses her no-nonsense attitude, reliance on hard facts, and twenty-first century thinking and to win a spot in the royal court.
1. Long distance calls require a 0 or 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the plots, characters, or places from Merlin. I only own the character of Morgan le Fay Smith as depicted here.**

**This takes place after Season 4 Episode 9 and before Episode 11.**

* * *

I woke up with a pounding headache. I lay still, hoping it would disappear. Thankfully, the universe was on my side, and the headache gradually subsided. Opening my eyes and sitting up, I took note of my surroundings. Luckily, I'm in the same place my fight had transpired. Seeing the grass and blood stains on my t-shirt and blue jeans, I realized that I wasn't going to be able to keep my fight a secret from Dad. I reached into my pocket, feeling for my iPod, which remained intact. My backpack with my laptop was nearby. Hearing movement behind the bushes, I closed my eyes, listening and feeling the vibrations in the air and through the earth. I analyzed the movement.

_A human is approaching, male by the gait, about 5'7 and at 200 lbs. A bit stocky. Given this, he probably belongs to the middle class. _

Sure enough, a male entered the clearing. I gave him a once over. He had blonde hair, blue eyes, and an athlete's build. He was not stocky; he was wearing medieval style armor which, whether authentic or not, would still weigh him down considerably. His broadsword was drawn; and the ornate hilt defiantly placed him in the upper class.

It was a funny thing to see in the 21st century. He probably belonged to Comic-Con or some such. He had a shocked look on his face that told me he noticed my strange appearance. My white hair and green and violet mismatched eyes tend to have that effect on people.

"Hello," he said, lowering his sword.

"What's up?" I asked, jumping to my feet.

Confused the man looked up.

"Nothing's up, besides the usual."

I noticed his accent. It sounded British.

_'Maybe he's not used to American slang,' _I thought.

"No, it's just an expression. It means hi. It's kinda like saying que pasa in Spanish. "

This seemed to confuse him even more.

"'K' what?"

I heard another person come towards us.

"Sire," said the new guy.

I observed new guy; no armor or sword, somewhat normal clothing, lean build, dark hair, and brown eyes.

"Who's this?" asked new-guy.

"That is a good question," replied sword-man.

I stuck out my hand.

"My name is Morgan le Fay Smith."

New-guy shook politely. Sword-man just nodded, then said, "I'm King Arthur of Camelot and this is my manservant, Merlin."

I felt like laughing and had to cover it up with a fake coughing fit. They were defiantly Comic-Con geeks. Trying to keep my composure, I said I was pleased to meet them. 'Merlin' seemed to take it well enough, but 'Arthur' seemed annoyed, like he thought _I_ was being rude.

"Are you hurt?" 'Merlin' asked, noticing my stained shirt and jeans.

"You should see the other guy," I smirked. "I'm fine, thanks. Could you point me to the nearest telephone?"

"What's a tela-ma-whatever-you-called-it?" 'Merlin' asked.

I started at him like I would stare at an idiot. Then, thinking he must be joking I said, "Very funny, you almost had me there. Now seriously, do you have a cellphone I could borrow?"

'Arthur' joined in the conversation at this point.

"First you want a telephone, now you want a cellphone. Which one do you want?"

My patience was waining.

"Look, I don't care if it's a telephone or a cellphone. I need to call my Dad and get home."

"We can take you to your father," 'Merlin' said.

"I'd really rather call him."

"I don't think he'd hear you. There's no one around here for miles."

"I mean I want to call him on the phone." This deliberate ignorance was starting to get on my nerves.

"Again, what's a phone?" asked 'Merlin'.

"What are you, sheltered or something?"

'Arthur' put in his two cents. "For most of his life, yes."

"I was not!" 'Merlin' cried indigently.

I sighed. "Look guys; I would really, really like to get home."

"We can take you. Where do you live?"

I gave in. "Hartford, I live in Hartford."

"Never heard of it," 'Arthur' stated. "Is that in Lot's Kingdom?"

"It's not in a kingdom, it's in Connecticut."

"Where's Connecticut?" asked 'Arthur'.

The conversation was interrupted by the arrival of more men outfitted in armor.

"Sire, the bandit's camp is empty," said one, apparently the leader.

I cocked my head at the middle-aged, dark haired, and dark eyed man. He looked shifty. I immediately decided that I didn't like him. No feeling between two persons has ever been more mutual; as soon as the man took notice of me he turned to 'Arthur'.

"What is _that_?"

"A human like yourself," I retorted.

Shifty did not take kindly to this comparison.

Arthur made the formal introduction. "Morgan, this is my uncle, Lord Agravaine. Uncle, this is Morgan le Fay Smith."

I recognized the name Agravaine as another knight from the Arthurian legends. I didn't say anything out loud, nor did 'Agravaine'; but our glares spoke volumes. If one of us had been struck dead, the other would have muttered, 'Good riddance'!"

"The bandits must have headed north," Arthur told the other men gathered there. "They're in Lot's Kingdom now. Let's head home."

I grabbed my backpack and jumped on a horse behind a man who identified himself as Sir Leon. _Still think they're trying to pull a fast one on me,_ I observed,

"Let me guess, the rest of you are going to claim to be Sirs Gawain, Percival, Elyan, Galahad, and Lancelot."

This cause a bit of commotion as men whispered and looked at Arthur nervously. One of them, who seemed less groomed than the others, spoke up.

"Look here, how do you know our names?"

I gave him a sideways glance. "Are you people really going to play this game?"

"Forward!" called Arthur and the company left.


	2. Maybe I'm dreaming

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the plots, characters, or places from Merlin. I only own the character of Morgan le Fay Smith as depicted here.**

**This takes place after Season 4 Episode 9 and before Episode 11.**

* * *

I woke from a very strange dream. King Arthur? Really? The things my mind made up! As I looked around, my mind projected what it wanted to see: the four blue walls of my room. But after a few seconds I saw where I really was.

Stone walls.

I closed my eyes, trying to blink away what I thought was the remains of a dream. Unfortunately, when I opened my eyes my situation had not changed. Well, except for one little thing.

"Hi, my name is Lydia. I'll be your maidservant while you're here," said the petite girl at my bedside.

"Uh, huh," was all I could say. A maidservant? The only maid I ever had were those hotel maids that make your bed for you. I remember them from all the vacations my family used to go on, back when we were actually happy; a long time ago.

"Can I get you anything?" Lydia asked.

"Uh, no thanks."

I wasn't kidding when I said she was little. I didn't stand very tall and Lydia was a whole head and shoulders shorter. She had dark hair and very feminine features. Something about her eyes seemed to suggest kindness and naivety.

I dressed quickly (I had extra clothes in my backpack. I didn't remember putting them there, but I'll get to that later) and turned to face Lydia.

"Are you sure you don't want something a little more ladylike?" Lydia asked, noting my clothing with a disturbed look. "The King says he wishes to speak with you and I wouldn't go wearing men's clothing."

"This isn't men's clothing! At least, not where I'm from." I was being to understand that I 'wasn't in Kanas anymore'.

"Alright," said Lydia, not looking the least bit convinced.

Someone knocked at the door.

"Should I admit them?" Lydia asked.

"Sure." I was looking in my backpack again, looking for my Kindle. I knew it had some books on the Arthurian legends but, I couldn't remember if I put it there. I recognized the footsteps of my visitor.

"Hello, 'Merlin'," I said without looking up.

"How did you know it was me?" He was surprised, as most people are.

"I don't reveal my methods of deduction so quickly." Where was that blasted Kindle? Ah!

"His Majesty wishes to see you-"

"Okay, can we drop the game already?" I interrupted.

"What?"

Lydia looked at us both. "Should I leave?"

"Yes," 'Merlin' and I chorused.

We stood facing each other, eyes locked as if we were preparing to duel.

After her footsteps receded I started again. "What are you playing at? Who are you, really?"

"Who am I?" 'Merlin' asked, "You pop up out of nowhere, wearing strange clothes, saying strange things, you know all our names and you ask who I am? Who are you?"

"I asked first, you answer first."

We fell silent, each waiting for the other to yield first. 'Merlin' relented.

"Fine, my name is Merlin. I'm King Arthur's manservant and assistant to Gaius, the court physician."

"You're really going to go with this, aren't you?" I asked, exasperatedly.

"Yes," he replied.

"Hm, maybe you should ask that physician for a dose of reality."

"Now, who are you?" he demanded.

"Someone who actually lives in the twenty-first century," I replied pointedly. "Furthermore-"

"Wait, wait," 'Merlin' cut me off. "Did you just say you live in the twenty-first century?"

I smiled. "Oh, is this where you claim that this is the sixth century or whatever and I _magically_ time traveled here?"

'Merlin' suddenly looked anxious. "Of course not. Magic is not permitted in Camelot."

I laughed. "Merlin was King Arthur's court sorcerer. Anyone with basic knowledge of the Arthurian legends knows that."

"Magic is not permitted in Camelot," 'Merlin' repeated. "Wait, what legends? There are legends about Arthur and me?"

The smile faded from my face. Pranksters would have given up by this point, right?

"You're kidding, right? Please tell me that this isn't happening. Tell me this is just a joke." I ran to the window, hoping to see a car or a cellphone or something that would tell me I was not in the fifth or sixth or whatever century.

Nothing.

Not a single person, animal, or vehicle looked like it would be out of place in Arthur's time.

I couldn't breathe. Everything I knew, every_one_ I knew, didn't exist.

_'Umm… so what?'_ I asked myself. I had nothing; no parents, no family, no mentors, no friends (none worth keeping anyway). In truth, the more I thought about my situation, the more I realized I was better off in the fifth or sixth or whatever century than I was in the twenty-first.

"So, you're the real Merlin?" I said, finally coming to terms with the facts.

"I hope so, seeing as 'Merlin' has to protect Arthur and unite the land of Albion, which is what I've been doing. It would be rather awkward if it turned out I wasn't me." He paused. "King Arthur is still waiting to see you."

This, of course, created a problem for me. If I told Arthur I was from the future, he would think I was crazy or using magic. Either way, my day would not end well.

I walked in circles and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My sister always told me that my white hair and mismatched eyes looked alien. No, no, the idea was ludicrous. It was also the only idea that would not get me killed.

"I have an idea."


	3. I come in peace, from Iotia

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the plots, characters, or places from Merlin. I only own the character of Morgan le Fay Smith as depicted here.**

**This takes place after Season 4 Episode 9 and before Episode 11.**

* * *

As I walk down the hall, I think of the lie I invented only a minute ago. I had to work out the general idea but still leave room for improvisation. And I had about thirty seconds in which to do so.

In the throne room, Arthur was waiting for me with what I assumed were his advisors.

_'Just be cool,' I thought to myself, trying to remember how to convey honesty. 'Keep your hands out of your pockets; show your palms; maintain even breath; and don't scratch your nose.'_

Arthur looked up.

"Ah, Morgan, I trust you slept well."

"Never better," I replied. Actually, I only half-asleep for most of the night; but now was not the time to bring up the concept of spring beds.

Arthur introduced me the court. Most of them weren't worth noting; they had places in court because of their parentage. This I expected. However, some of them actually did something to deserve their titles. Gauis, who I knew from Merlin to be the Court Physician; and Geoffrey of Monmouth, Court Genealogist; were both present. Lord Agravaine was there as well and I swear our eyes threw daggers.

"I'm afraid that we are having some trouble finding Connecticut on our maps," he continued. "We will need to know what kingdom it is in."

_'Here goes,' _I thought.

Placing my hands on my hips and squaring my shoulders, I prepared to deliver my lie like a practiced Shakespearean.

"Look, I know Ortheoians like to play pranks, but this has gone far enough," I asserted. "I'm here on a diplomatic mission to discuss your involvement in the sabotage of the Vulcan's trade route."

Arthur stared at me for a long time before speaking.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh don't give me that…" I started. "...You really don't know what I'm talking about, do you?"

He shook his head.

"Oh." I channeled my shock from earlier that morning, then waited a bit before continuing. "I think," I started slowly, "I think I've been making an ass of myself." I allowed another pause. "What planet am I on?" I asked.

"You're on Earth," Arthur replied slowly, still very confused.

"That's a problem," I muttered.

"Explain," Arthur demanded.

"Well," I started, "I'm supposed to be on Ortheo discussing their involvement with the Vulcan's trade route."

I paced for a few seconds, running my hands through my hair, as if I were anxious.

"I see what happened now," I muttered. "I see what happened now. The ship crashed. I thought I crashed on Ortheo."

"Where is Ortheo?" Arthur asked, looking back to his maps.

"It's about two light-years from here," I said.

"Um, how long is a light-year?" he asked.

"It's about six trillion miles," I replied. Then, remembering that people in the dark ages didn't use astronomically large numbers like 'trillion', I explained: "A trillion is a one followed by twelve zeros."

Arthur looked up from his maps, realizing that what he had was inadequate for finding my "home".

"Where the hell are you from?" he asked.

"_Uh oh, I haven't thought that far yet. Think, think, think, think."_

"I'm from Iotia," I said. Inwardly, I groaned. Iotia, really? I watched way too much Star Trek.

"In any case," I said, "I'm not where I'm supposed to be and I have no way of getting there. I'm stuck here."

Arthur walked around the room a bit.

After a long pause, in which dread started to settle in my stomach, Geoffrey of Monmouth finally spoke.

"You mean to say you're from another planet?"

Ah! That I can play off of.

"I would think that would be obvious," I said.

"Well," he said, noting my clothing, "you're definitely not from around here." He paused. "But I don't see why it's obvious that you're from another planet."

I tensed a little and bit my lip, trying to appear cautious.

"Well, first off," I started, then added seemingly to myself, "how do I put this?" Then to him again. "Your planet is often seen as a little…underdeveloped."

"Alright…can you say that in English?" Arthur asked.

"You're barbaric," I stated. "You lack in manners, in free thought, and severely in technology." I paused. "However, you are seen as the "fun" planet. Things happen here. You don't have the hum-drum rules or regulations the rest of the galaxy has. You still fight wars over land, for heaven's sake." I pretended to look perturbed, then covering up for my fake misstep, "Of course that is a very important stage in a planet's development."

Arthur ran his hands through his hair, trying to take everything in. He walked around, while I looked at the tapestries on the walls. I remembered from my history that tapestries were hung on the walls of castles to keep them warm. Oftentimes, they depicted battle scenes. I was still admiring one when Arthur asked me another question.

"What was that?" I asked, having missed said question.

"How do I know you're telling the truth?" he asked. "How do I know you're not making this up?"

Thank heavens I have a habit of putting my hands in my pockets when I admire art!

"Ah!" I said. "I thought you would want some proof."

I took my hands out of my pockets and gave him my iPod.


	4. Aces in my sleeves

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the plots, characters, or places from Merlin. I only own the character of Morgan le Fay as depicted here. **

**This takes place after Season 4 Episode 9 and before Episode 11.**

* * *

It took Arthur a while to figure out how to turn my iPod on. He nearly dropped it when he did.

"How do I know this isn't magic?" he asked.

I scowled, no longer acting.

"Do you people explain everything you don't understand with magic? You are so narrow minded!"

Taking the iPod out of his hands, I proceed to explain how it worked. It took nearly a half hour of interruptions and multiple retellings before he threw up his hands.

"Alright!" he said. "Enough already! I think I believe you now. The devil himself couldn't come up with a lie like that, much less a human." Then, looking at me with a critical eye, he added. "Or whatever you are."

"I'm an American," I replied.

"I thought you said you were from Iotia," Gaius remarked.

"Yes, yes," I said absentmindedly. "My planet is Iotia. My country is America; my state, Connecticut; my city, Hartford."

Lord Agravaine apparently decided that having a being from an unknown planet arrive uninvited, call your home barbaric, and show-off fancy devices was a little too insulting for his tastes. Obviously, there was only one thing to do: humiliate me in revenge.

"For an ambassador," he started, "you don't seem very…diplomatic."

My lips twitched. Dad called it my Mona Lisa smile.

"I'm not that kind of ambassador. I'm the kind planets send when diplomacy fails. You see," I said, gesturing with my hand as if showing a piece of art, "I make weapons. Planets send me in order to say 'See this girl? She can decimate all of the major cities on your world by pressing a button. She works for us. Now let's talk about that treaty,'" I smile mischievously. "That's how I negotiate."

I enjoyed watching Agravaine's face fall.

"That kind of power," Gaius said, "is too dangerous for this world. No one," here he looked at me very hard, "no one could control power so great."

"Even magic isn't as strong." Arthur added.

It was all too true. A little more somber, I replied, "There was a time when our weapons grew faster than our wisdom. Two of our most powerful countries came to the brink of destroying themselves. They would have taken the rest of the world with them," I remarked. It was odd, I thought, that while I played this role, making up the history of another world, I was predicting the future of theirs.

God has a wonderful sense of irony.

Silence fell over the room, as it usually does after so serious a topic of discussion. The clouds which had hovered over the sun all morning broke and came streaming through the stained glass; creating playful, shifting patterns on the floor. For a moment, we were mesmerized.

Arthur broke the stillness first.

"How do you intend to get back to your planet?"

"Well," I started, "I have no ship and no communications. I'm stuck here," I paused for a moment to let this sink in. "I am thinking that I might travel to Japan. It's on the other side of the world, but they're a little more advanced."

Arthur was thinking. If I had played my cards correctly, he was thinking exactly what I wanted him to think. Every kingdom has enemies; Camelot is no exception. I can create weapons with power beyond comprehension. I never wanted to be a weapons manufacturer; actually I wanted to work for NASA. I study engineering and computer sciences just so I can say I helped put a man on Mars. However, that is quite impossible in this century.

"Stay here for a while," Arthur offered. "Perhaps I can find a place for you."

We both knew what that meant.

"Thank you, Sire," I replied.

I was to become a medieval Tony Stark.

Wonderful.

* * *

Arthur's Point of View

* * *

She left the room and I felt a wave of relief wash over me. I had thought her unearthly from the moment I saw her. However, I didn't mean it quite that literally...

To think that there are other creatures, not of this planet, far more advanced; just watching us, laughing at us, is… well, unsettling to say the least. To hear how powerful their weapons are is more than disturbing. Still, such weapons could be useful; especially in the fight against magic.

"Well," I said, turning to my advisers, "what do you think?"

"She is a spy. Obviously, she was sent by our enemies to learn our secrets and destroy us," my uncle replied hastily.

"Her story is incredible," Gaius added.

"But not unbelievable," Geoffrey declared.

I looked at him in surprise, Uncle laughed, and even Gaius raised an eyebrow in disbelief at his old friend.

"The Syrian Lucian wrote of people who live on the moon and sun. If mere humans can imagine it, surely God can as well and can create them if he wished."

"There is also that device," Gaius added.

"Yes, it was very obnoxious and highly inappropriate for a young lady," Uncle asserted.

"Uncle," I said, "I think we can safely assume that our ideas of propriety are not congruent with the people of Smith's planet."

He sniffed.

"Gentlemen, surely you can guess what I am thinking," I said.

They were silent.

"Sire, the only thing I have to say is be careful," Gaius advised.

"So you have no other objections?" I inquired.

They shook their heads.

"Then I am decided," I declared, and with that I turned my attention inward.

I felt a pang of guilt. This technology seemed so close to sorcery. I silently prayed that, by conspiring with Smith in order to protect Camelot, I was not offending my father with so extreme a method. I tried to think of what he would have done. I frequently found myself doing this, as a guideline. I know I can't be exactly like my father. I don't want to; he was too quick to judge, too swift to condemn. That was his failing. I have yet to discover mine.

Throughout the course of the day, I found several ways to justify my actions. After all, the young lady could provide more than just weapons. Perhaps she could bring other technologies as well, ones that aren't so destructive. That would even out the score. Still, just because one can justify something, doesn't mean that said something is moral and right. Either way, Camelot was about to be outfitted with some of the most powerful weapons in the universe, even more impressive than magic.

Wonderful.


	5. You sold me under the chestnut tree

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the plots, characters, or places from Merlin. I only own the character of Morgan le Fay as depicted here. **

**This takes place after Season 4 Episode 9 and before Episode 11.**

* * *

I hadn't been in this century 24 hours and already I missed modern technology. Drywall, to be exact. The walls of the castle felt wet. The air was damp, stuffy, and chilly, even though it was the middle of summer. The small windows, though larger than I expected, didn't emit enough light into the hallways.

_If you put mirrors across the hall from the rooms,_ I thought, _the light would reflect into the hallways. That would make it much brighter in here._

The mirrors surprised me. I'd heard that mirrors in this time were few and far between. The best were made out of polished copper. Here, there was one in every room which wouldn't have been out of place in my time. I asked one of the housekeepers, or castlekeepers rather, about it.

"Oh yes miss, you won't find such excellent mirrors anywhere. Or so many! The late King Uther had them made for his wife."

Two things I concluded from this exchange; one: Uther loved, or at the very least was fond of, his wife; two: Uther invested time and money to make something that currently did not exist. I considered it likely this attribute rubbed off on his son. That was good news for me.

I heard footsteps behind me; I didn't recognize them. I turned. The unkempt knight, the one I had seen yesterday, came toward me.

"Hi," he greeted cheerfully, "I'm Gwaine. We met yesterday."

He was a little too cheerful, to tell the truth.

_God, please,_ I prayed, _please, don't let him be a drunken womanizer with an antipathy toward bathing._

"Well, we didn't really 'meet' meet, but I was the one asking how you knew all our names and you looked at me funny, remember?" he continued.

"Yes, I remember," I said, without looking at him. _Please God. I'll be a missionary in Africa, whatever you want, just get this guy off my back._

"So how do you know our names? Is it because your planet's been watching us?"

That last question stopped me. I knew I didn't see him in the throne room.

"I listened. They didn't even shut the doors," he told me, still smiling.

"Yes, it's because my planet's been watching yours," I replied.

"I always knew there were people out there. I met some once. They weren't anything like you. They were small and green. They poked and prodded me then they gave me something to drink and I blacked out," here he paused to look at me. "You're much prettier."

I laughed. I couldn't help myself. Even in this century people claimed to have been abducted by aliens.

"What- were- you- smoking?" I managed to ask between gasps.

"I'm not sure what you mean by that," he said, his smile replaced by confusion.

"Then what on earth did you eat?" I inquired again, after recovering a bit.

"Nothing out of the ordinary, well except for some herb Merlin told me was safe."

My laughter returned. I couldn't breathe.

He stood over me, waiting for me to stop, before saying; "If your planet is so informed, how come you didn't know Lance was dead?"

That caught me by surprise.

"As I said earlier, I'm the ambassador to Ortheo, currently. I've never been to earth before and I've never made plans to come here. So naturally, I didn't keep up with everything that's happening. The only reason I know your names at all is because I am good friends with an Earth scholar."

"Oh," he said. "There was one name you mentioned, I can't remember it now, but I've never heard it before."

I shrug. "Perhaps I've confused him with someone else."

_Lancelot is dead, there's no Galahad, Merlin and Arthur are about the same age, I haven't heard anything about Guinevere yet, and Geoffrey of Monmouth is actually the court Genealogist. This is almost the opposite of everything I've read._

* * *

Back in my room, I decided to take a look in my backpack. I'm certain that I didn't put a set of clothes there. I'd just started rustling around when I hear a knock. I let Merlin in. He immediately burst out laughing.

"People on other planets! I've never heard of such a ridiculous thing. I can't believe Arthur fell for that," he managed to say.

I looked at him very hard.

"How do you know that other planets don't contain life?"

Every line on his face betrayed his surprise.

"Is there life on other planets?" he inquired, completely serious now.

"I have no idea," I said, turning away from him, "but how do you know there isn't? Our sun is but one star, there are billions of other stars in this galaxy and billions of other galaxies. Maybe there is, maybe there isn't. Until we make contact I don't care one way or another," I paused, thinking of the possibilities. I know my eyes were shining when I said "It would be incredible, though."

The space bug bit me at an early age. Dad had shown me John Kennedy's moon speech and I fell in love.

"_Daddy," I said, "I want to go to the moon."_

"_They're done sending people to the moon, sweetie," came his reply._

_I thought for a while. I nodded, saying, "That's okay. There's still Mars."_

Rummaging through the front pocket of my backpack I thought, _there still is Mars. So what did they do? Cut NASA's funding?_

"What are you looking for?" Merlin asked, breaking my train of thought.

"Anything that could help me in this century."

Merlin sat down, looking thoughtful.

"You might need a weapon," he offered.

Of course, I didn't pack a weapon in my pack. It's too bad. My grandfather had brought home a katana after World War II. I'm not sure how he acquired it, but I'm certain he didn't buy it. Master Yamaguchi taught me to use it.

My hand latched onto something. It felt familiar so I pulled it out… and promptly dropped it.

It's my grandfather's katana.

"Nope, nope, nope. There is no way that thing fit in there."

Merlin figured that out as well. He picked up the sword. The scabbard flashed in the sunlight, bringing out the twisted dragon design.

"Amazing," he breathed. "You have a magic pack!"

This ridiculous-sounding statement snapped me out of my trance.

"It's not magic!" I exclaimed.

"Oh, so I guess it was mysteriously transported here by way of your 'technology'," he said, mocking my earlier disbelief of being in the sixth century.

"There's a perfectly logical explanation for this. I just haven't figured it out yet," I snapped.

"Suit yourself," he said, hurrying out of my room.

I glanced at my grandfather's katana.

How on earth did this get here?

I disemboweled my backpack. Everything I had pulled out now lay on the table in front of me. There were my textbooks, on engineering and computer sciences; various other books; some chocolate; and my laptop. My pack was now completely empty. I reached my hands in and patted the sides.

Yep, empty.

I straightened up. Looking out the window, I tried to come up with some theory, some explanation. Nothing.

My mind likes to jump around when I think. Unless I concentrate I bounce from one topic to another. When my brain found no explanation for my conundrum, it did just that.

I felt something in my hand, still in my pack. Looking down, I saw my pocket-size copy of the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution. I open my backpack wide; nothing.

I blinked.

Setting it aside, I prepared for a test. I left my hand in the pack and thought of a notebook I had complied earlier that year. In it, I put everything I knew about weapons. My dad being an ex-Navy SEAL, the task was not difficult. I concentrated on that notebook. A few seconds later, I had pulled it out of my pack. My mind now had a theory.

_My backpack is a portal to my time. I can use it to transport my things to this century._ Then I think: _Can I conjure things that aren't mine?_

There was an old-fashioned mom-and-pop soda fountain and store down the street from my house. Mr. Herasimuk, an old Polish gent, made a brownie sundae to die for. I concentrated on that image, to the point where I could almost taste it.

Nothing.

I had somewhat expected such a result. My gut had told me I couldn't bring conjure something outside of my house. How it knew that I had no idea. However, it did tell me that my subconscious was connected to it. For instance, I knew, or rather my instinct knew, that I couldn't call up peanut butter, even though it was in my house. I could summon my blueprint of a motorcycle.

How queer!

I thought about the origins of my backpack.

"Where did I get this thing, again?" I puzzle. "Oh that's right. Mom gave it to me."

My heart turned sour when I think about that woman.

Mom. She was the woman who left Dad for some rich asshole. Mom. She was the woman who didn't think me good enough to be her daughter. Mom. She was the Wicca.

"No, no, stop, you don't need to go there," I tell myself, "That's right. I don't need to go there. I don't need her approval. My life doesn't hinge on what she thinks of me. She's not that important."

How many times did I tell myself that?

The year 2008 stuck in my head like a tumour and in my heart like a thorn. The memory of my family's actions, and more potently their words, wrapped like a parasitic vine around me; it sucked out everything beautiful and filled it with anger. Even after hours of fruitless prayer, countless meditations, nothing could take away, or even dim, the pain I still felt.

Master Yamaguchi told me time would heal.

_'Do not concentrate on the wounds of the past; they will only bring more pain. "Forgive your enemies," as your Savior says,' he told me._

"_How can I do what He says if I don't even know He's there?" I had replied, more to vent my anger than to receive an answer._

"_When you pray, He will reveal Himself to you."_

"_That's hard to believe when it feels like I'm praying to the frickin' ceiling!"_

"_I know you're frustrated Fay, but that does not excuse such words! Calm yourself and think about how you want to express before you speak," he lifted my chin up, forcing me to look into his ancient eyes._

Think before speaking. Well, I had certainly done that.

I grabbed my weapons notebook and sat down to review.


	6. I support First Amendment rights

Arthur's Point of View

* * *

I'd made my mind up. Camelot needed defense and an opportunity to provide it practically fell into my hands. I only had to sort out the details with her.

Arrrgh. The very idea of talking to her sent chills down my spine. I convinced myself that I wasn't afraid. It was simply the fact that she was not of earth. That and her looks; I would get used to them in time.

When I finally had a few minutes, I went to her room.

"Come in, Arthur."

I jumped. I hadn't even knocked yet!

"It's your Majesty," I said, as I walked in, trying to regain my small loss of dignity. Who was she to call me Arthur? Had she no manners? Then again, as I told Uncle, etiquette on her planet was probably differed from ours. No matter, I could teach her.

"I don't know how you address your King but here people call me 'Your Majesty'," I explained.

For some reason, Morgan started chuckling.

"Yeah, yeah, sure. I forgot about that. Anyway, what do you want?"

"It's what do you want, Your Majesty. I can't have you disrespecting me in front of the court and the people," I iterated. This seemed to annoy her slightly.

"Fine, fine. What do you want, Your Majesty?"

I started to explain the situation between Morgana and myself when she very rudely interrupted.

"Arthur, er, Your Majesty, can we just cut to the chase?"

"Excuse me?" I asked, completely taken back.

"You have enemies; I have weapons. You pay me; I get rid of said enemies," she extended her hand toward me. "Deal?"

I stared at her before adding with a huff, "You can't address me like that." Good Lord, this was like Merlin all over again. "On this planet, subjects bow to their king and they certainly don't demand things from them."

Her face bore a look of indignation.

"Excuse _me_," she replied, "but I am an American. I bow to no one and I can demand anything from anyone," she dropped her hand. "Though they have every right to deny me what I demand." She walked over to a chair and sat down with an air of confidence I was beginning to disdain. "I am not one of your subjects."

My hands curled into fists.

"If you work for me you will be one of my subjects," I said with indignation of my own.

"I will be your employee," she retorted, raising out of her chair, "not your subject. I was not born here."

"That doesn't matter! You live here, you work here, you do what I command!"

"Yes, yes, that goes without saying," she replied, nonchalantly waving her hand.

I relaxed.

"Good."

" But," she continued, "I will not become a serf. I will retain at least some of my rights."

I blinked. The words came before I could stop them. "Rights? What rights? Women have no rights."

"Not here they don't. I don't expect to have all the rights I enjoyed in my country. That would be unrealistic."

I sat down.

"So on top of paying you to make weapons, you want me to grant you a list of freedoms? Freedoms that no other woman has?"

Morgan turned to me, a smile on her face.

"Yes! Now you're getting the idea."

"What if I say no?" I asked.

"I leave and take my technology with me," came her quick reply.

"You had this all planned out didn't you?" I mused. "From the moment you told me what your job was."

"Maybe." She smiled.

I sighed, rubbing my head in my hands. I hadn't known this girl for long and I already felt she was manipulating me. This did not bode well for the future.

"I suppose I should at least hear these demands before I make a decision." I had ti consider giving her the job.

She leaned against the bed and held up her hand, counting off fingers as she went,

"Firstly, I want to bear personal arms, whatever they might be."

"Can you give me an example? I'm not sure I trust you with the power to wipe out a kingdom on your own."

Morgan walked to the table and picked up a sword.

"This, for starters," she answered.

It was a gorgeous weapon. The scabbard displayed two lizard-like beings that looked to be some sort of dragons twined around each other, their scales red and gold and their fiery breath formed along the hilt. Curiously, it had no cross-guard and it was curved, but not like a Turkish sword. It was rather short too.

"I've never seen a sword like this."

"It's actually an Earth weapon, from Japan. My grandfather brought it home as a souvenir. As I for other weapons, you shouldn't worry. For the most part I'll have handguns, grenades, and other things that go boom," she looked at me impatiently as I was still admiring the sword. "So, are we good on that one?"

"Yes, yes if that's all I suppose there's no harm." If only I knew then what I know now about handguns. "May I?" I asked referring to the sword.

"Sure," she handed it to me, "It's called a katana or samurai sword," she imparted. I drew the katana out of the scabbard.

"What's a samurai?"

"Well, samurai were warriors, usually for a nobleman. The word samurai originally meant "those who serve in close attendance to nobility".

"So, like a knight?"

She nodded. "Yeah, one could phrase it that way," she paused, "Anyway, back to the topic." Morgan beckoned for me to return the weapon.

"What else do you want?" I asked, exasperated.

"If I am accused of a crime, I demand a fair trial. If I am found guilty I want assurances that I will not be subject to cruel and/or unusual punishment."

"Well," I remark, running my hand through my hair, "that's not so unreasonable." I felt relieved. She seemed to stick to basic freedoms, nothing fancy, complicated, or rebellious.

My relief was short-lived.

"Thirdly," she continued, "I wish to say what I want, where I want, whenever I want."

"Absolutely not!" I exclaimed. "I already know how opinionated you are and how brazenly confident you can be. I am not about to grant you a power that my own uncle does not have!"

Morgan nodded. It seemed she expected such a reaction.

"I thought you would take exception to that one. So, I have come up with an alternative." Here she came and stood quite close to me. "I'll toe the line in the presence of others, but when it's just you and me I put in my two cents."

I had no idea what 'toe the line' or 'put in two cents' meant but her facial expression left on doubt as to her meaning.

Although this demand was a little less outrageous than the last, it was still unthinkable! She was a woman! She had no standing!

Still I feared where Morgan would go if I didn't relent.

"If it helps at all, that is my last request," she stated.

I sighed. Looking out the window, I watched a peasant woman converse with a neighbor, her purchases in a basket. Why couldn't Morgan be like that, a simple housewife?

"You will be civil?" I asked.

"I will stay as professional as possible," she promised.

"Well, then," I held my hand out to her, "welcome to Camelot."


	7. No oxygen

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the plots, characters, or places from Merlin. I only own the character of Morgan le Fay as depicted here. **

**This takes place after Season 4 Episode 9 and before Episode 11.**

* * *

Morgan's Point of View

* * *

I sat down as soon as he left. I couldn't help it; I was shaking so badly.

I was scared…and frustrated. Frustrated because I didn't know what I was scared of. It wasn't because Arthur was a King. My American breeding saw it as nothing more than a title, like Senator. The thought that he might strike me had flitted through my mind. No, no, he didn't seem that type and besides, I could defend myself. So, what was it I was so scared of!

I knew next to nothing about this time period. In my history studies I had always liked the Egyptians, the Greeks, and the Renaissance. They were innovators. This was the Dark Ages. I rubbed my face in my hands.

"_What am I doing, what am I doing, what am I doing! This is crazy!_"

Still this is not what bothered me. Flipping through my red weapons notebook, I figured it out. I came to a diagram of a Sig Sauer. This was the Dark Ages. They didn't even have black power!

I was scared because I couldn't build weapons from scrap. I was not a genius.

"_I need something to work with. I have nothing._"

I needed metals that hadn't been invented. I needed chemicals no one had ever heard of. I needed tools no one had thought of yet. This was the Dark Ages.

My hand involuntarily made lists of things I needed. I was surprised. Most of the list consisted of chemicals: the chemical components of plastics, black power, Composition C-4, etc. My brow furrowed. No one carried these! People in this century don't mix substances unless…

_Smack!_

Now I feel stupid. Of course people had chemists in the Dark Ages, they just called them physicians.

* * *

Gaius's Point of View

* * *

"Come in," I said, replying to the knock on my door. Surprisingly, Morgan Smith walked in.

"Hey," she said, in what I supposed counted as a greeting on her world.

"I don't have any," I replied. I knew she didn't come to me for hay. A person does not come to physician for horse feed. After letting her puzzle for a bit I continue, "If you go around talking like that you will confuse people. On this planet we greet each other with 'hello'. You can remember that, can't you?"

She gave me the quizzical look I had expected.

"Okay. Anyway I'm looking for some stuff," she explained, looking around my workshop.

"If you want my assistance you'll have to explain 'stuff'," I replied.

She handed me a list. I looked it over. I was not certain whether or not she handed me a list of nonsense. It contained words that I couldn't pronounce.

"Got anything like that?" she asked, observing one of my shelves.

"I'm not sure what most of this is."

Morgan grimaced. "I thought as much." She turned, as if to leave, muttering, "Very well, very well."

Perhaps it was my experience with Merlin's exploits that made me sensitive to trouble.

"Young lady, I think you face a dilemma."

She smiled. "Yeah, you could say that."

"Perhaps you have not told us the whole truth."

She laughed. It was a humorless laugh. She was trying to hide her fear and did a very poor job.

"You still don't believe me!"

"I don't believe you told us everything, Morgan. However, I will accept your explanation for now, mostly because I can't think of a better one."

She still smiled. "But why this suspicion?" she asked.

"Sit down," I told her, taking a seat myself. "First off, there is the very convenient fact that you are the only person from your planet. Second, you are very young, too young, I think, to be charged with the power to destroy. Third, there is your condescending attitude, which you are obviously using to cover up your fear," I paused. The look on her face told me that my suspicions were correct. I stood up. "I understand your fear. I estimate you are sixteen, eighteen, maybe?"

"I've just turned sixteen," she quietly replied.

"And you have been torn from your family, your home, and everything you know, I suspect?"

"Yes," she responded with barely a whisper now.

I nodded. "You seem a decent girl. I will help you were I can."

I received a nod and a silent thank you.

"Now do you need anything?" I asked.

She asked, very politely, for some beakers, vials, and a few chemicals. As she was leaving she turned to me.

"Gaius?"

"Yes?"

"If you think I'm being dishonest, how can you also think me decent?" she inquired.

"I think you telling as much of the truth as you can; that's the main reason. The fabrications you do create, you create out of fear, probably of your life. There is also the ring on your left hand."

Morgan stared at me for a bit before muttering a thank you and taking leave.

* * *

Morgan's Point of View

* * *

I looked down at my purity ring and smiled. It would seem my ring help with more than skirt-chasing boys.

I don't think I could have kept the truth from Gaius. He gave me that look. Master Yamaguchi used to give me that look and I spilled the beans every time. I missed my Master. I missed the training, the meditations, and most of all, his guidance.

I also missed having more than ten elements to work with! I didn't even have arsenic!

I walked over to the window. As I gazed out at nothing in particular, I thought about the people I knew. I allowed my mind to drift.

"_Hey Morgan?_" _Jasmine called._

"_Yeah?_"

"_Can, can I ask you a question?_"

_I raised an eyebrow at my best friend. _

"_No I do not have a crush on Toby. Don_'_t listen to what my mom says._"

_She laughed. Jasmine had such a beautiful, melodic laugh. _

"_No, no, that_'_s not what I was going to ask._" _She paused and added another daisy to her chain. _"_Your name is Morgan Le Fay Smith, right?_"

"_Yeah,_" _I replied, think it odd she asked a question she knew the answer to._

"_Well, wasn_'_t Morgan Le Fay King Arthur_'_s half-sister? She was like this, you know_…" _she trailed off awkwardly. _

"_She was an evil witch,_" _I finished. _

"_Yeah. Why did your parents name you that?_"

_I shrugged. _"_My dad didn_'_t have any say in the matter. He couldn_'_t get to the hospital before Mom signed the papers. She believed naming me after a witch would give me greater power or something. You know how she is, being a Wicca and all._"

Coming back to reality, I went to work.


	8. I have a blast

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the plots, characters, or places from Merlin. I only own the character of Morgan le Fay as depicted here. **

**This takes place after Season 4 Episode 9 and before Episode 11.**

* * *

I glared at the water.

How dare it defy me! How dare it sit there and taunt me, withholding two elements I so desperately needed.

I continued to glare, willing the hydrogen and oxygen to separate.

It didn't work.

I let my forehead fall on the table before straightening up, running my hands through my hair.

For two weeks I had resided in Camelot and for two weeks I hadn't created anything. At least Arthur waited patiently. He stopped by almost every day to check on my work. We had fallen into a sort of rhythm. At the end of the day he came by and looked at some of my sketches while I tried to explain electricity; the periodic table; weather phenomenon. If he understood me he would nod and tell me to keep working. During these visits we rarely looked at each other. If he couldn't comprehend a thing I said he'd give me a funny look and shake his head. When we met outside of my workshop we didn't speak, sometimes we didn't even acknowledge each other. It suited us. We each stayed out of the other's way.

I left my room, as I often did when I was particularly flummoxed. I received fewer stares these days than I did when I first arrived. People still whispered. Apparently, there were quite a few rumors about me. Lydia delighted telling them to me. At first, some people said I was a sorceress, but that idea was quickly dropped. The current gossip said that I was a fairy or a fairy child or a fairy friend, or something along those lines. Of course they all knew the official story, Arthur told them. Yet no one seemed to believe all of it. They were certain that I had "pixie blood" and that something was "not right".

To a certain extent, they were correct.

My feet took me to the stables. I knew Merlin usually worked there at this time of day.

"Ring, ding!" I chimed, mimicking the bell in old Mr. Herasimuk's shop.

"Ring, ding!" Merlin replied. "Frustrated again?"

"Very," I said, leaning against a post. "I'm so close, too. I'm so close I can almost taste it."

"I know what you mean," he sympathized, making a face at the muck.

I laughed. For some reason I got a strange sensation, like something was pecking at my brains.

You know when you're taking a test, one you actually studied for, and you come up to that one really hard problem. The answer quickly flits through your mind and then it's gone. Then you're left with this irritating feeling because you know the answer, your brain just won't give it to you.

That's the feeling I got.

As the day wore on the feeling grew.

You know how sometimes that problem I mentioned above is multiple-choice? It's even more frustrating because you know the answer is right there!

Sometimes movies show people banging their head against the wall and the answer just comes to them. Well, I'm here to tell you that doesn't work. If you get nothing else out of my story, understand that banging your head never produces answers. I tried banging my head on different materials: stone, wood, metal; and I got nothing.

It was also very tiring telling people that, no, I'm not insane or sick; I'm just a scientist.

I stayed up late that night. Well, later than usual, I tended to stay up late every night. In any case, the answer would not come; no matter how much thinking, pleading, or praying I did. I went to bed. Perhaps the answer would come to me in the morning, after my subconscious had time to mull things over. Finally, I told Lydia to close shop. Grudgingly, I had come to accept her help these past few weeks. The first couple days I wanted to live as I always had, or at least, as I had since the divorce. I wanted independence. However, I soon realized that would no longer work. My surroundings had changed, I had to adapt to them. Two days after I dismissed her, I went to her house to ask her come back. She smiled. I took that as a yes.

Lydia extinguished the candles; I added a few lines to a sketch and the business day ended. We exchanged good nights.

As I lay in bed, I couldn't help but think that my dilemma and my conversation with Merlin were connected. Then, just like that, as I drifted off to sleep, the answer came.

"Lydia!" I called.

"What is it?" she asked, understandably grouchy.

"Where do they put the horse manure?"

* * *

Days passed by. Finally, my demonstration was ready.

Arthur had once shown me an old tower on the verge of collapse. The tower concerned him because he could not think of a way to destroy it without damaging the city walls, by which it stood alarmingly close.

I planned to solve that.

I knew he was in the throne room, handling the day's business.

It was eight o' clock sharp and I ran up a flight of steps to the throne room, having set fire to the wire a few minutes ago.

The ground rumbled; a sound like thunder shook the air; debris from the tower flew flaming everywhere.

I caused quite a bit of shock waltzing into the throne room, cover in dirt and dust. There was some commotion already; everybody in a dizzy after the blast. I threw my arms out, wide and dramatic, and called:

"Wake up! It's time for science!"

* * *

For some reason, Arthur was furious. Here I thought he wanted the tower destroyed.

Okay, I knew he was mainly angry at me for causing such a ruckus without giving warning. He gave me a lecture on how I was no longer on my planet, how important the chain of command was here, and how I should have at least told him what I planned to do.

I apologized. He was right, of course.

"Good," he said, calming down a bit. He narrowed his eyes and pointed to the far left corner. "What is that?"

"That is my water filtration system," I answered, then added jokingly, "Relax, it doesn't blow up".

His look said this was not the time for jokes. He had had a slight hostility towards me for the past few weeks and now I felt him load all of it into this icy glare.

"Geez, I'm sorry, okay." I slumped, very unladylike, in my seat.


	9. A few speed bumps

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the plots, characters, or places from Merlin. I only own the character of Morgan le Fay as depicted here. **

**This takes place after Season 4 Episode 9 and before Episode 11.**

* * *

Once I had poked a hole in the dam, the water surged forth to break its barriers.

New technologies rolled out of my lab on a regular basis. After my demonstration on the tower, flocks of scientists came to my aid. A local monastery made inquiries of my work. I had admired monasteries of the Dark Ages as beacons of education, and gladly spent an entire day explaining everything from electronics to genetics. This tour served a double purpose as I suspected that Lord Agravaine sent them to catch me in some crime, probably magic. Their questions, though cleverly asked, did not conceal their anxiety on the matter. However, they left satisfied, excited, and amazed. Rarely were there days in which a monk was not helping me in some way.

Merlin and Gaius were also frequently by my side as I introduced new medicines. First I made Penicillin. Afterwards, Gaius and I experimented in vaccines. Well, Gaius experimented, I assisted. I could only tell him what a vaccine was and what it did. He created them. Besides the Penicillin, the only real contributions I made to his field came in the form of a microscope. Many of the misconceptions concerning medicine in those times he rejected, having observed different. He was not a renowned physician for nothing. This strengthened my opinion of Gaius, as his paternal attentions strengthened my regard.

During this time I discovered that Merlin had, uh, unusual talents. He first showed me when I scoffed at and denied the existence of magic. He levitated at cup.

"Do you believe it now?" He smiled.

I watched in wonder. Then, shaking myself, I replied,

"You're using some sort of trick."

The cup flew to the ceiling.

"Would you stop that?!" I whispered furiously. "You're going to get me in trouble and I'm under enough suspicion as it is!"

"Ah ha!" Merlin retorted triumphantly.

"I still don't believe it, but others will. Now stop it!" I shot back.

I refused to let him show off, er, 'perform' in my office (I called my bedroom my office during business hours, that is 8 am-8pm Monday through Saturday). However, he occasionally performed some trick when we were alone. At first I would glance around nervously and tell him to cut it out. He would smirk. Later, I would simply roll my eyes and say, "Just wait until I can analyze that DNA of yours and I'll prove it's not magic."

Of course, any kind of DNA work was a long way off, but some of the scientists were very excited about the possibilities of creating gene sequencers within a century.

Money and space quickly became problems in my growing academic community. With Arthur's permission and the help of the monks, I took over some rooms in the castle and in the monastery. It was barely enough. We constantly rearranged rooms to optimize our space.

I received a monthly salary according to the terms I had previously hammered out with Arthur. One of the wonderful things about this century was the lack of land rights. In America, there are certain things you can or cannot do on a piece of land depending on who it belongs to. Here, all land belonged to a king. Sure, he could grant land to his nobles, but if the king wanted to do something to the land, he did. I could mine anywhere I wanted. Materials cost me next to nothing. Labor was different. Blacksmiths wanted to be paid; the scientists needed money for substance and lodgings.

A change of tactics was required. I knew Arthur wouldn't give me money, especially with the way he's been acting. I needed to make it worth the expense. I went to Merlin for advice.

"Do you have a plan?" he asked, scrubbing a boot.

"I was thinking I could look at the budget."

"The what?" he interrupted, pausing his work.

"The monetary records. If I could cut extraneous spending perhaps Arthur would allow me a chunk of what I save."

Merlin continued scrubbing the boot.

"Why don't you ask Geoffrey to do it? I don't think he can have any objections. You can ask Gaius to help; they're old friends. Arthur will listen to Geoffrey."

The plan worked perfectly. I made Merlin lunch for a month after that.

The Science Department, as it was now known, still had to penny pinch. I thought it all the better. It forced us to keep a spotless work ethic. We could afford few mistakes. All theories were completely worked out before put to the test.

There was only one other minor problem. At first I thought Arthur's ignoring me was just that; he was ignoring me. But recently I noticed that when we passed in the halls he would stiffen. When we talked his arms were nearly always crossed. He didn't laugh at my jokes. For some reason, I seemed to get under his skin. I thought it was only natural to ask.

He came to check on my progress, per usual, and he crossed his arms, per usual.

"You can relax, you know. I don't bite."

He did relax…for about ten seconds.

"Alright, what's up?" I asked.

"What? Nothing's up," he replied.

"Okay, I know I'm picking this up late but you've been a bit hostile since week two. Did I do something?"

"I'm not being hostile." His eyes narrowed a bit.

"Maybe not consciously. Look, if you don't like me I understand, but I'd like to know," I explained.

"Just stick to your work," he scoffed, an edge creeping into his voice.

"I consider this a part of my work. Please tell me what I can do…"

"It isn't a part of your work!" he snapped, straightening to his full height. "It's none of your business!" he seethed, closing the distance between us. "Keep out of it. You will not use me."

He blinked. He muttered a quick apology, then left.

I was stunned. He didn't yell at me but he still left me shaking.

I quizzed Merlin about it; he couldn't make head or tails of it. Gaius was just as clueless. I even asked Agravaine.

I didn't see Arthur for a few days.

Merlin and I were still discussing it when Lydia came with lunch.

"Um, didn't you ever notice your name sounds a lot like his sister's?"

"That could be it," Merlin said. "Arthur and Morgana grew up together. He's still bitter about her betrayal."

I nodded. "So, he's subconsciously placing that bitterness on me."

"I don't exactly know what subconscious means but yes, I think so. It seems to make sense," he replied.

"Well, we're going to have to do something about that."

The boys, the knights that is, were going on one of their patrols again. In the past I had asked to come along.

"I've been in the same place for weeks! I need fresh air," I would say, only to be told to stay put.

As such, I knew that Arthur extending a peace offering when he invited me to come along.

"Morgan…" he began.

"Fay," I interrupted.

"What?"

"You can call me Fay."

Thus, the minor problems ended.


End file.
